Breaking Superstition
by Morbid DramaQueen10
Summary: "We already have luck. We'll make our own, anyways, if we need it." He was never one to abide by the rules. He'd never needed to. Draco/Astoria, drabble.


**Breaking Supersitions**

**DISCLAIMER: HP is not mine.**

**Drabble, Draco/Astoria, post war. **

**Dedicated to . and Little-Miss-Derranged-Genius. They've been fantastic with their support, especially as some of the few Draco/Astoria shippers and readers. I had a spark of creativity this morning. This is the result...hope you enjoy. Please review! **

Though it broke tradition, he hurried to the dressing room once Daphne's message had been conveyed. She'd arrived, out of breath, skin hot and contrasting with the champagne silk horridly, passing along her sister's words, murmuring of tradition. Damn superstition. He was never one to abided by the rules, anyways. He'd never needed to

There were still a few guests who had not yet seated themselves and were milling about, drinks in hand, chatting merrily. These types of events could only ever brighten or sour one's mood; there were no in-betweens. Most here were happier (if not a little inhibited, as the Malfoys had wisely and kindly opened the bar early) and scarcely noticed the platinum-haired young man who flashed past in a half-open white dress shirt, a slightly rumpled pair of black trousers, partially tied bowtie dangling from his neck. He was barefoot, save from socks.

Upon reaching the door, he hesitated, unsure of if he ought to knock or…finally, he grabbed the polished brass handle, taking a steadying breath before turning the knob and stepping slowly inside, with his eyes cast down to the peony-patterned carpet. He heard a soft sound, but kept his eyes on the floor. A rustle, like the flutter of a bird shifting, came from the furthest wall.

"Draco," a voice rose from the silence, a pure breeze wafting through the room.

"It's not good luck," he warned, and he could practically feel her smile.

"We already have luck. We'll make more, if need be."

He laughed, not because it was particularly funny, but because it used to be his father's regular reassurance.

"Come on. I need to see you."

So he looked up, attempting to hide from her his edge of nerve. Still, his hands tremor.

She hadn't put on the dress yet-it still hung in the garment bag on the dressing screen-and instead her white shoulders were covered by a pretty blue silk bathrobe. Astoria's hair and makeup is already done, though, he knows little of these things he can see that they were done by careful hands and exceptionally well. Her ivory cheeks were smooth, dusted with a rose blush, hinting at innocents. A few ringleted tendrils brushed her neck, and ostrich feathers fluttered slightly, their bases glittering with diamond chips. The finishing piece, his great-grandmother's icy gold tiara, sat on the vanity, twinkling faintly.

She is beautiful, and he wants to tell her so, but his throat wouldn't let him. He swallowed a few times as he crossed the room, and asked, "What is it? Daphne said you…needed me…?"

"I love you," she whispered, taking his hands once he had stopped to kneel at her feet (which were encased in gold satin shoes, he noted, with crystal chips in the heels, and set on the rim).

Draco replied ironically. "I thought as much."

Astoria gave him an indulgent half-smile before hitting him lightly. This broke the ice on his facial muscles, and his features wee thrown into a grin of relief. She continued.

"I love you so much, and…and…oh, Draco, I'm sorry."

The ice came back, but the grin was frozen. These were not the words a man wants to hear on his wedding day. Draco waited, his hands tightening uncomfortably on hers. Out of all the potential conclusions to the beginning of that particular sentence, the one he was envision wasn't particular favorable.

"…I am so excited for today, and starting our life. I'm just…Merlin, I am nervous," she bit her lip. "I just needed to see you."

"Why?" he croaked.

She looked up from the vanity, surprised. "Draco?" One look was enough for her to pick up on his fears, and she appeared stricken. " No, my love, I-of course not! I just wanted to…" she drifted off, mumbling, "…see you."

"Yeah," Malfoy finally said. "Me too."

"It's been so hectic since we starting planning, with the dress and the part and everything. For a while our life has been all about the ceremony, revolving around the wedding. That's not how it should be. It ought to be about us, yeah? And before I walk down that aisle, exchange rings, or swear anything, I need to see you. Just see you."

He was slightly speechless. Astoria waited, stroking the lines of their conjoined hands. Several minutes passed before Draco could voice his thoughts.

"Of course. Of course, Astoria, it makes perfect sense." The smile returned. "And I shall be so, so honored to marry you today." The tiara was lifted from the vanity, and he raised it to her crown, placing it carefully so as not to muss her hair. Astoria's neck straightened automatically, turning to arch, white and thin as a swan's. "Mrs. Draco Malfoy."

"Actually," she pipped up, shifting the tiara straightly as she gazed into the vanity's mirror. "I was thinking more along the line of 'Mrs. Astoria Greengrass.'"

Again he's almost speechless, but she laughed lightly, letting him know it was merely a quip. There was a knock at the door, and the laughing quickly stopped when Daphne popped her head in to hiss that they had twenty minutes and "_Merlin knows they'd need more than fifteen to put that dress on."_ Draco stood to part, trying to kiss his bride softly on the cheek before her sister squawked that he'd ruin her makeup. He left, back to tie his tie, put on some shoes, and perhaps button his shirt.

And twenty minutes later, he stood at the end of the carpeted aisle, four gentlemen in dress robes by his side. The fellow presiding over the wedding nudged Draco once the silhouette appeared at the start of the aisle. He stiffened briefly as the music they'd selected weeks ago started up, then relaxed and exhaled. Down the line, all the men shifted. They had already escorted their coinciding bridesmaids in. She was the only one left.

Once her figure and face came into view, he couldn't look at anything else. She was radiant. And, he thought, he wouldn't ever want to look away.

_ Yes, we'll make our own luck. _

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